REVIEW

Velvet revolver is reviewed by The Irish Times.

Velvet Revolver

Ambassador, Dublin

The huge array of electric guitars at the right-hand side of the stage says it all. In Dublin for two sold-out nights, Velvet Revolver are here to make some noise.

On paper, the supergroup - Slash, Duff McKagan and Matt Sorum (Guns N' Roses), plus Scott Weiland (Stone Temple Pilots) and Dave Kushner (Wasted Youth) - are a rock fan's wet dream, veterans of an era when bad behaviour and even worse habits went hand in hand with platinum-selling records and world tours.

"We play rock'n'roll," Weiland hollered, cigarette in hand, as the band broke into Do it for the Kids, a typical adrenaline-fuelled stomper. The former Stone Temple Pilots frontman, the baby of the band at 40, is the primary focus of attention as he hurtles around the stage with the agility of someone half his age.

Despite superior numbers, such as Let it Roll and Sucker Train Blues, as a unit Velvet Revolver is less than the sum of its parts and it's telling that the biggest reactions are reserved for the three Guns N' Roses songs in the set.

Slash is a hero to a generation, and is one of the reasons tennis racquets doubled as electric guitars in bedrooms around the world. When he appeared with a double-neck guitar for a show-stopping version of Patience, the audience sang along to every word.

However, a rock'n'roll show should be far more fun and entertaining than this. Despite throwing the right shapes, there was little chemistry between the stars on stage, and Weiland, whose most recent trip to rehab ended less than a fortnight ago, appeared to wilt midway through the gig before perking up again later on.

A decade of substance abuse has clearly taken its toll: on Get Out the Door and She Builds Quick Machines, Weiland's vocals were barely audible in the surrounding din.

The performance came to a close with crowd favourite Slither, a song in which Weiland sounded eerily like Layne Staley (the Alice in Chains singer who lost his battle with heroin addiction in 2002) and a reminder that rock excess doesn't always have a happy ending.

BRIAN KEANE